


Princes without Fathers

by Sassaphrass



Series: Tales from Exile [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: As far as Dwarven culture is concerned Kili and Fili have no fathers, Canon Compliant, Class Issues, Cultural Differences, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarven Traditions, Father Figures, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gender Roles are complicated for Dwarves, Societal Upheaval
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassaphrass/pseuds/Sassaphrass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili becomes curious as to where Fili got his golden hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Princes without Fathers

Kili often wonders about Fili's father. He has no particular curiosity about his own father. No, it seems quite clear to him that his father was another of the Ereborean refugees, and it is equally clear to him that Fili's was not. In all the long years of his life (well, compared to men who just seem to die all the time), Kili has only seen a handful of dwarves with yellow hair and of them he's seem not a one with hair as bright as his brother's.

 

No one ever told him that they had different fathers but no one needed to. Their mother never married and it seems ridiculous to think that it is an unwed dwarrowdam would have more than one son by the same father, some do of course but then there is always muttering about how the cruel vixen ought to marry the poor fellow rather than dishonour him so and rob him of a chance at sons.

 

Kili has brought it up with his mother only once and received a sharp slap to the head and a sharper reprimand to stop filling his head with such mannish nonsense. The sons of unwed mothers have no fathers. Every dwarf knows that.

 

Kili nodded and shuffled off and says no more on the subject but wonders still.

 

He brings it up a few years later with old Balin who is the most kindly of his many relations and the most likely to actually answer the question.

 

Balin hums softly and sits down in front of Kili.

 

“I suppose this was inevitable.” he sighs, his voice tinged with sadness. “The unavoidable result of the scattering of our people.”

 

Kili keeps his mouth shut and tries to look like he understands.

 

“Tell me laddie, have you had many playmates beyond your brother?” Balin asks.

 

Kili is surprised by the question. “Of course! Hardly any games you can play with only two.”

 

Balin nods and looks at him sideways. “But you're the only lads in the settlement.”

 

“Well we roust around with the man-merchant children.”

 

“Ah, so this notion of the importance of fathers comes from them?”

 

Kili frowns. “No, that's not what it is. I just-” he cuts himself off as he tries to find the words. He's never been particularly good with words (better than Fili but most people are, Fili rarely says anything for fear of sounding foolish and even then often does sound foolish when he deigns to speak).

 

“I understand why, having one son my mother would wish to have another. A single dwarfling is a lonely dwarfling, and it is always better to have a brother at ones back. But, why would she want a son in the first place? She is a master in her craft and it must have been expected that she would not be distracted from her craft by dwarven swags or a longing for bairns, so why did she have Fili?”

 

Balin leans back. “Ah. T'is a better question than I thought.”

 

Kili fairly glows with pride. It's rare that anyone is impressed by his thoughts and questions rather than by his skills. In fact Balin himself can rarely hide his exasperation at Kili's slowness with rune learning and arithmetic.

 

Balin clicks his tongue and then shoots Kili and sharp glance. “You have asked your mother already I'll warrant.”

 

Kili tries and fails to look innocent.

 

Balin tries and fails to look disappointed but cannot hold back his grin.

 

“Very well, I'll tell you for t'is not exactly a secret and is an excellent tale.

 

You see, after the fall of Erebor everything was in shambles and all manner of dwarves who in proper society would never have met were rubbing shoulders and sharing meals. Among them was a Tanner named Floi.”

 

Kili nods eagerly and pulls his chair closer.

 

“Now, things are different now but in those days there was no dwarf more improper and outcast than a tanner. Unclean, unskilled, living in the sun all day? What shame they brought on the race of Durin, or so it was believed in those times.

 

But, living as they did on the mountain slopes many of the tanners escaped with all the wealth they possessed: namely their herds and tools, which was far more than the rest of us had to our names.

 

Now, it came to pass that your mother became friends with this tanner named Floi. And of course we of the line of Durin all heartily disaproved- after all Dis is no common dwarrowdam , she is a master craftsman of the line of Durin and for a tanner to presume to be in her company? Well, the cheek of it!”

 

Balin exclaims in mock seriousness, as a mischevious twinkle lights his eyes. Kili smiles. It's funny to hear about the strange customs of the old days.

 

“Now, it would be one thing if it had seemed she wanted a son off him. After all he was well-known for the beauty of his bright yellow hair, and it was believed his own mother only turned away from her smithy because she was tempted at the thought of a son with hair as yellow as the gold she smithed- He was the son of Muniver who was greatest of the living goldsmiths at the time of the dragon's coming, you see-

 

And his hair was as the palest purest gold. His mother having got the son off a traveling dwarf of the Firebeard race – his was unlike any other in Erebor.

 

But it seemed that your mother was not interested in a son, and so we worried and fretted.

 

For perhaps this was love? And we can only love once.”

 

Kili leans forward in excitement. “Well, was it love?”

 

Balin sighs and shakes his head. “If it was it was not a strong enough sort. Floi courted your mother for years and years. He presented her with the finest furs, the most subtly tanned leathers, the most beautifully dyed skins, all in hope that she would ask to join their hearths and forges. But, though she, did in time, have a son off of him she never did ask to wed.”

 

“So, in hopes of bringing her gifts of gold, silver and jewels- Gifts more fitting to a mastercraftsman of the line of Durin, gifts great enough to prove himself to her- he joined a merchant caravan heading to the land of the Harad in the south. On the return they were ambushed by goblins and he was killed.”

 

Balin sighs and shakes his head. “Just as well I suppose. He had little honour enough to begin with and his courting beyond his rank was angering to many of us and then your mother had a son from him and would not wed him though all could see it was his greatest desire and his shame was complete.”

 

Kili frowns and blinks.

 

“But why did Mother want a son of him?”

 

Balin quirks his mouth wryly. “Perhaps she merely wanted a son, and any dwarf would serve to give her one. Or perhaps she was as taken by his golden hair as Muniver before her had been by that of the Firebeard she met.”

 

Balin wags his finger in Kili's face. “Now don't you be telling your mother I spoke of this. She's asked us not to mention Floi's name again.”

 

Kili nodded and wandered out, more confused than ever.

 

If his mother had loved this Floi, why had she not married him rather than shaming him by having a son of him and yet rejecting his advances?

 

And if she had not loved him why should she not have sent him away with an axe in the head for continuing to offer unwanted advances when she had her desired son of him?

 

Looking up the road Kili spies his uncle trudging in from some long journey to one of the other Dwarven outposts in the blue mountains. Kili hurries to catch up with him but does not call out his usual exuberant greeting and instead walks beside his king in silence.

 

Thorin glances at him from under his brows. “You seem troubled nephew.”

 

Kili shakes himself and meets Thorin's gaze. “No. It's nothing Thorin.”

 

Thorin smiles fondly. It's the smile that Kili is nearly certain his uncle reserves solely for him.

 

“Come now, you've never been a very good liar.”

 

Kili shrugs awkwardly. “As I said, t'is nothing, I just heard the story of the dwarf my mother got Fili off of.”

 

Thorin freezes in the street and looks at Kili with all trace of the earlier warmth and fondness gone. “You should not be asking after such things. It's foolishness, no doubt born of your over familiarity with the customs of men.”

 

“Did she love him?” Kili blurts out, hoping to head off the long and often repeated lecture on safeguarding the cultural traditions of the line of Durin.

 

Thorin looks at him his surprise and then in sadness. “Yes, most who knew Floi loved him. He was a kindly soul, and a gifted singer. He wanted to be a bard and sing the great songs, but he had not the skill to make an instrument and so could not pass his apprenticeship and was sent up to the tanners since he feared the mines. He was, in truth, not much of a dwarf at all.”

 

Kili is shocked to see there are tears in his uncle's eyes.

 

“But he was kind, and gentle. And when during our long march we felt we would perish or give ourselves over to despair he would sing and...” Thorin trailed off. “And we would find in ourselves strength and courage we had not known we possessed.”

 

“It was unkind of your mother to so shame him. Selfish of her to keep accepting his gifts and to have a son off him when she never intended to wed him. But that is love. Love is selfish.”

 

Thorin begins walking again and Kili trails along behind him. “So she _did_ love him?”

 

Thorin nods sharply, clearly wishing the conversation over. “Yes. She loved him greatly and wept for days on end when word came that he was slain.”

 

“So why did she not wed him?” Kili asks.

 

Thorin sighs and frowns, before shrugging. “I cannot guess.”

 

It was all Kili could do to keep from snorting in disbelief. Thorin not only could guess- Kili would bet his best bow that Thorin knew exactly the reason for Dis' refusal of the Goldsmith's son.

 

Thorin pauses before they enter the family home and looks deeply into Kili's eyes. “Do not speak of this to your mother. We dwarves only love once and it would wound your mother to hear his name spoken once more.”

 

Kili nods mutely and follows his uncle inside.

 

Later that night, as he sits next to Fili tending to their weapons in preparation for a job as guards to a merchants caravan, he asks the question he has been longing to ask all day but had not dared.

 

“Fili, what do you think father's are like?”

 

The dwarves not born in the blue mountains detest that word. They scorn it as mannish and unsuitable. Something no true dwarf should bring up in polite company.

 

“Can't say I've put much thought to it.” Fili replies off handedly, clearly concentrating on the edge of his blade rather than his little brother's words.

 

“But surely you must wonder what it's like to be a father?”

 

“Honestly, I'm not sure I'm inclined to wed and have children. I'd rather be left to my forge, my weapons and my fights. You think you want to wed someday Kili?” Fili is paying a bit more attention now, but has not looked up from where he's now double checked the sheathes for his many (many) hidden daggers.

 

“Yeah, I've always wanted to be in love, but I'd hate to be dishonoured if she wouldn't have me to wed- everyone laughing up their sleeves at me...it would be awful.”

 

Fili nods. “That is the danger for us dwarves isn't it? She refuses you and you look a prize dishonoured fool.”

 

There's a long silence as Fili checks that the new leather handles on his throwing axes aren't throwing off their weight, and Kili should be double checking the fletchings on his arrows.

 

Kili wraps his arms around his knees. “Fili?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Do you ever wonder about _our_ fathers?”

 

Fili's drops the axes into his lap and twists round in his chair to glare at his younger brother.

 

“Is that what this is about?! We don't have fathers. You know that.” There's an accusation in his tone and a familiar look in his eyes.

 

It's a look Kili is familiar with from the old nobility that pepper the town. It's the look that says he's not quite dwarfish enough. Not quite a _true_ dwarf.

 

It stings to receive it from Fili.

 

Kili hugs his legs tighter. “Men would say we do.”

 

Fili snorts. “Men prefer their women walk around in long skirts that make it so they can hardly move. I don't care what men do.”

 

“They wore long skirts in Erebor! Mam told me once!” Kili protests.

 

Fili glares, they both know that's not the point.

 

Kili picks at the hem of his tunic. “It just doesn't seem fair. If a dwarrowdam wants a son off me I'll be thought a fool if I refuse but shamed if having got a son from me, I wish to marry and she rejects my courtship.”

 

Fili grimaces. “No offense brother but I doubt very much any dwarrowdam worth her salt will ever want a son from a beardless ugly beast like you.”

 

Kili pulls a face. “Oh shut it, you piss head.”

 

Fili draws himself up and flicks his brother in the forehead. “See now I'd like you to make me.”

 

Kili can't contain his grin and launches himself off his bench too knock his brother to the floor, careless of the arrows he scatters as he does so.

 

Fili is right. There are many years yet before Kili need worry about love and sons (or Mahal shower blessings beyond count: a daughter). His beard is not yet fully grown. There is no reason to suppose that he'll be thought of so poorly as Fili's yellow-haired clumsy fingered not-quite-father.

 

After all Kili hasn't got a father at all, but Bombur the Firebeard tinker from down the valley has fourteen fat children and an equally fat wife.

 

There's not reason to suppose that Kili won't manage to be half as lucky as Bombur. And no reason to suppose he'll be as unlucky as Floi who died with no sons and no wife far from the dwarrowdam he loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the idea with this was to play around with Dwarven culture and why the official family tree included in the appendices and supposedly drawn by Gimli doesn't include a father for Fili and Kili, and also, playing with some of the ideas mentioned in bonus material related to the Hobbit films, mainly the Ri brothers having three separate fathers, and what the larger ramifications could be for Dwarf culture with that. According to Tolkien Dwarves only love once, and only about a third of them fall in love or have children. Dwarf-women he says, can rarely be distracted from their crafts and only about half can be 'convinced' to wed. 
> 
> Basically the concept I'm trying to convey here is: in traditional dwarf culture is a dwarrowdam (female dwarf) has a son out of wedlock the biological father of the child is considered to be of little to no importance in the whole thing, and if he continues to pursue a dwarf that refuses him after she has had a child with him, then it's considered really stupid and embarrassing of him. If two dwarfs marry and the wife already has a child than the child will automatically be considered the son of husband and are considered part of his family line and not the wife's.
> 
> However, because of the close quarters relationship the exiles now have with men some of the human ideas about fatherhood are trickling through especially for the younger generations and everyone's on edge about the subject.


End file.
